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Standing here at the Clean-X-Press, I've got about ten dollars in quarters slowly working in cahoots with gravity to pull my pants down to my knees. I planned to write this at the beach, but alas, laundry calls. So as I focus on the movement of the pen, the hum of the grimy dryers becomes the lapping of the waves. The lint bunnies floating around me are now seagulls, and the "Last Wash 9:30 PM" sign has become "Caution: No Lifeguard on Duty."
Sitting on the beach, I'm sucking the cold air deep into my lungs. The salty breeze is wreaking havoc with my low-maintenance 'do. A charred log is nearby, peaking out from under it is tattered Snickers wrapper. A thought slowly comes to the surface, like a dead sea bass at high tide...
What a great time to be living in, mankind is on the threshold of a new Golden Age. We're on the verge of genetically engineering our DNA. Technologically, we are closer to building a sentient computer. In physics, we are unraveling the time right before the creation. With all these grand discoveries though, we have yet to build a sand-proof shoe.
Think about it, thousands of years have gone by, from cave paintings to fax machines. We can send a man to the moon, but his shoes, they will never be safe. Looking back in history, one would think that the ancient civilizations would have overcome this dilemma. The Egyptians created papyrus to record events, invented hieroglyphics, built massive pyramids, and yet contributed little to the creation of a sand proof boot. Maybe the sand thing didn't bother them too much. Maybe the early civilizations were too preoccupied with the ideas of language, science, and government.
During the height of the Babylonian Empire, there was a sandal repairman who set out to create the sandless shoe. He was only a few minor calculations away, when he was killed by the king's magician, Mo Mo Hanee Haku Mar Mar. This name loosely translates into "The Bender of Darkness," but if one were to dig a little deeper into the language of the time, they would find the literal translation to be, "He Who Gives Back Rubs to Satan." With his death, the secret remains hidden. Buried in the sand. How ironic.
One would think that if the US can afford to spend billions of dollars on missiles, then billions more on space lasers to shoot down missiles, they could have allocated a few bucks towards shoe design. In California, we have Silicon Valley. Silicon. Glass. Sand. A gazillion megabytes of memory, thousands of genius minds, and no shoe. Nada.
NASA plans to put a man on Mars within the decade or so. They had better think ahead, I hear it has one helluva beach.
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